Trusting in Faith - A Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 5)

by Shea,Lisa

  Reynald was there, kneeling at her side. His face was a tormented mixture of guilt and sorrow, of apology and fixed determination. He reached a hand toward her cheek, and she instinctively drew back. His eyes shadowed, and he brought his hand back to his side in a slow, reluctant motion.

  Sarah flushed with overwhelming desire to be held by him – to be cradled by him, to be told that everything was going to be all right. A dark desperation blossomed within her, that he could be so close and yet out of reach.

  The smallest glimmer of hope tantalized her. She still had not heard any admission from his own mouth. Maybe she had misunderstood.

  When she found the breath to speak, her voice came out more sharply than she had intended. “Where is my sister?”

  Reynald flinched as if he had been struck, but he held his gaze steadily on hers. “It is my fault,” he admitted quietly, his voice rich with regret. “I am sure you have been told by now what happened between us. I know you tend to blame her in these situations, and I want to make it clear. I take responsibility here.”

  He paused for a moment, then added more quietly, “I am afraid you will have to believe me in this matter, as Rachel is of course no longer in the keep.” His face flushed with guilt, but he held her gaze with steady will, ready to accept any punishment she chose to lay on him.

  Sarah’s body layered with ice. Reynald had already installed Rachel as mistress of his new home? Slowly, carefully, she brought her hands together and drew Reynald’s ring off her finger. She raised it to him.

  “This is yours,” she offered, her voice steely.

  Reynald hesitated for a moment, then nodded and took the ring back from her. He did not put it on his own finger, but carefully placed it into the small bag at his belt.

  Sarah’s face hardened. Was he so quickly planning on giving it to her sister, then?

  Her voice became harsh.

  “Get out,” she ordered him. When he did not move, she pushed herself into a sitting position, her voice growing louder. “Get out!”

  Reynald quickly stood. “Please, you are still ill,” he pleaded with her. “I will leave and will fetch you some help.” True to his word, he turned and quietly left her room, and in moments Polly had entered. The maid did not speak, but moved around the bed quickly, offering her a mug of mead.

  Sarah rubbed at the spot on her finger which had held the ring, tears coming slowly to her eyes as she sipped the liquid. Seeing the rivulets, Polly murmured soothing comments to her as she drank.

  “Do not cry, miss. Everything will work out somehow. I know it is hard, right now, but it is always darkest before the dawn. I am sure that somehow things will work out …”

  Sarah fell asleep to the quiet litany of her promises.

  * * *

  Sarah was being shaken awake. “Come on, sleepyhead, it is time to get moving,” came the strict instruction. Surprised, Sarah opened her eyes to find Gertrude standing over her, hands on her hips.

  “You have been coddled for long enough,” instructed the woman, her feet planted solidly. “It has been almost three weeks – plenty of time for you to get more than mead and broth into you! We are going to start with strained turnips today. But first, we are going to sit up.”

  Gently but firmly, Gertrude helped Sarah to settle into a sitting position. After a few mouthfuls, Sarah had to admit that she felt much better, and eating the semi-solid food was quite refreshing. Her sorrow eased as her stomach filled with the vegetables.

  “That is a start at least,” agreed Gertrude once the bowl was empty. “Next, we have to get your muscles working again.”

  She pulled the blankets away from the bed and sat by one leg, making it bend and then unbend. Sharp pains shot through Sarah at the motions, but they felt good, as if a long unused piece of machinery was finally getting its gears moving again. She braced herself against the back of the bed, giving in to Gertrude’s ministrations.

  By the time Gertrude was done with the full body’s worth of workout, Sarah was exhausted. She drank down another bowl of soup, relishing the warmth that filled her from within.

  When Polly came to remove the bowl, Sarah looked up at her. “Could you send Cedric to me in the morning? I have something I need to talk with him about.”

  “Of course, dear,” responded the woman with tenderness. “You get some sleep now.”

  Sarah nodded, drawing the blankets over her head, falling into a tired sleep.

  * * *

  The next morning, a semblance of Sarah’s old strength eased into her muscles. Gertrude was there with strained carrots, and Sarah found that she could feed herself. With Gertrude’s help, she swung her legs around to the side of the bed and hobbled around the room, leaning heavily on the nun for support.

  The courtyard was quiet outside her window, and after she had spent every last ounce of energy on walking and moving, Gertrude sat her down by the window for a well-earned rest.

  There was a knock on her door, and Cedric stuck his head into the room. When he saw she was up, he came over to stand before her. “Sarah, I am so sorry,” he stated hoarsely, looking over her from head to toe. “If only -”

  Sarah cut him off with a wave. “We are lucky to have gotten through so much fighting with so few injuries as we have seen,” she tenderly offered him. “I was told by many to stay behind, to stay safe. It was my own choice to be there at risk.”

  She paused for a long moment. “That was the second time in five days where I had been caught unawares. I blame no one for that but myself.”

  She looked up at the soldier before her. “I know you have trained me for many years on the basics of combat, with both sword and dagger. Now I want you to try to teach me something different. At the wanderer’s camp, I was held captive by one of the men. I was completely helpless.” Her lips pressed together tightly. “I never want to feel that way again.”

  Cedric nodded in understanding. “It will be my honor,” he responded. “We can start tomorrow, if you are ready.”

  “I will be,” promised Sarah with feeling.

  Cedric bowed, then turned and left, closing the door gently behind him.

  Sarah sat there for a long while, the summer sun soaking into her body. Strength was returning to her, step by step. Her heart still echoed with hollow despair. She sensed it would be much longer before that wound healed.

  Evening shadows stretched across the courtyard, and suddenly the sound of hoofbeat carried across the clearing. A group of soldiers came riding in through the gates. She spotted Reynald at their center, and recognized Ethan, Elijah, Walter, and several other men.

  Sarah sat forward, her brow furrowed with thought. Where had they gone to? Were they still out hunting down Denis?

  To her surprise, Reynald looked up at her room as he dismounted. He stopped suddenly as he saw her sitting there. Sarah turned her head sharply, putting him out of her vision. When she looked back several minutes later, the men had gone inside, and the courtyard was quiet again.

  She sat by the window, lost in thought, until darkness descended. She climbed her way back to the bed, and fell asleep.

  * * *

  The next few days passed in rapid succession. Sarah’s strength returned as she progressed to venison stew and mashed turnips. With each hour she could walk more easily around her room. She worked with Cedric for an hour each afternoon, going through the moves slowly at first, then more quickly as she learned the skills. Gertrude helped her with her flexibility and strength training

  Sitting at her window, Sarah watched the group of soldiers leave each morning and return each evening. They did not appear to be engaging in any fighting – they returned without any injuries, and only the weary dust-ridden look of a long ride. Each evening Reynald looked up at her room as he returned, and each evening she turned her gaze, unwilling to meet his.

  Sarah tucked her feet beneath her, watching the full moon rise up over the distant forest, lost in thought. Was Reynald riding to see Rachel every day, and retu
rning here to report news of his search for Denis to her father? Had her mother refused to allow Rachel to visit the house? What had been going on while she was unconscious all of those weeks?

  It had been weeks … a thought suddenly occurred to her. Her monthly bleeding had always begun a day or two before the full moon – but it had not appeared yet. It was now almost a month from when she had slept with Reynald.

  A deep shuddering sigh was torn from her chest. With everything else that was going on, surely she could not be pregnant as well! She knew how injuries and stress could affect a woman’s cycle. Surely it was just the chaos of her life, her injuries, and her situation with her sister -

  Her mind filled with fury. She’d had quite enough of this hiding in her room, pussy footing around the situation. Tomorrow she would confront Reynald, in front of witnesses, and discover exactly what was going on.

  Chapter 23

  Sarah was ready and alert when Gertrude walked into her room the next morning. She spoke up before the nun had a chance to sit. “I believe I will surprise my family by coming down to eat with them,” she offered in a low voice. “Could you bring up a bath, but not let them know my plan? I would like it to be a surprise.”

  “Yes, of course,” chuckled Gertrude with a grin. “You are definitely ready to get out of this room and on with your life!” She was gone in a moment, and in short order a trio of servants had brought in a large wooden tub, ferrying in several large buckets of warm water to fill it up.

  Gertrude came over to the side of the bed, but Sarah waved her away. “I would like to do this alone.”

  Gertrude nodded, her leathery face creasing in understanding. “I will see you downstairs.” She turned and left, closing the door firmly behind her.

  Sarah carefully undressed, then spent an hour luxuriating in the suds, wiping away the grime and sweat of weeks. The heat felt glorious on her aching muscles, and she was refreshed and renewed when she toweled herself off.

  Her legs were weak but able to support her, and she dressed with resolve in a white chemise followed by a long, tan dress. She braided her hair down her back and fastened the belt. She steeled her heart to hear whatever was going to be said. She wanted to know the truth – and she was going to face it, no matter what it led her to.

  She pushed open her door and moved slowly down the hall, taking care on the stairs. While she knew her will was strong, she also respected her body’s recovery and did not want to push herself beyond her limits. It was a few minutes before she reached the bottom and turned the corner to walk into the main hall.

  The murmur of conversation came to an abrupt halt as she entered the room, and all eyes turned toward her. She held her head steady as she walked slowly across the room, her gaze fixed on the main table. Her father and mother sat at the large oaken span, with Reynald by her father’s side.

  Her sister was nowhere to be seen.

  Fury boiled within her. That was her seat that Reynald was in! Had he moved in so quickly?

  Both men stood immediately as they saw her approach, watching her movements with cautious surprise.

  Sarah stopped before the table, putting her hands on the wooden surface for support. Her eyes swept past her mother and father before connecting with Reynald’s.

  He looked so strong … so sturdy …

  She pushed those thoughts out of her mind and focused on the task before her.

  “Where is my sister?” she growled, leaning forward on her hands.

  Her mother gently spoke up. “Now, Sarah, I think -”

  Sarah motioned her to stop speaking with a wave of her hand. “I want to hear this from his lips,” she grated, her eyes not moving from his.

  “I … I do not know,” he quietly admitted.

  Sarah’s anger snapped. “What do you mean you do not know?” she called out, her voice rising.

  Reynald took in a deep breath, then let it out again. “We send numerous search parties out every day. We have asked every village, every small outpost for help. Wherever Denis has made his camp, it is well hidden.”

  Sarah’s mind spun with fury. Reynald was being deliberately obtuse! How dare he try to distract her from her sister with mention of this other task!

  Reynald’s face was dead serious. Beside him, her parents were pale and resigned.

  Sarah took in a quick breath, realization sweeping over her. With sudden insight she saw that he was being absolutely honest. He was answering her question.

  Rachel had been taken by Denis.

  Her fury burst from her in a tidal wave of emotion. “You let her be stolen away by Denis?” she screamed, aghast. She was torn between wanting to fly at Reynald, to pummel him for his inability to protect her sister, and to race after her sister herself. Her family instincts won out, and she turned to run toward the main doors and the stables.

  Strong arms grabbed her from behind, and she struggled futilely against them. “How long has she been in his clutches?” she railed, pulling with all her strength. “We have to save her! You abandoned her!” She twisted, but could not get free from the embrace.

  “Shhhh,” murmured Reynald in her ear, soothing her. “I am sorry … I am so sorry … but you know you are too weak to go. We are doing all that can be done. You need to focus on healing.”

  Sarah’s energy gave way, and she collapsed back against Reynald, spent. Tears flowed freely down her face. With everything else that had gone on, now her sister was under the control of that madman.

  Reynald held her against his body, supporting her, giving her his strength and comfort.

  Finally, Sarah wearily brushed away her tears. She shook Reynald’s arms off of her and stumbled toward the main doors. She heard the footsteps following behind her, but she did not stop. Rather than turning toward the stable, she moved into the small stone chapel beside the main building.

  A measure of serenity settled over her shoulders as soon as she entered its cool, damp walls. A row of candles lay flickering to one side, and she moved to the row, taking a small stick to light a fresh candle. Then she sat heavily on the front pew for a moment before dropping to kneel before the statue of Mary.

  An image of Rachel, scared, alone, came to mind, and she put all of her strength and energy into sending waves of support to her sister. Any fortitude, any endurance she had, she wholeheartedly turned over to help her sister get through this trial.

  Whatever else Rachel had done, she was her younger sister. Sarah thought back to all the times she had watched over her sibling – supporting her sister against their parents, teaching her new skills, looking out for her, and caring for her. It was part of Sarah’s being; part of what she was.

  Rachel was in trouble now.

  Sarah would do everything she possibly could to rescue her from it.

  She vowed to spend every moment building up her own strength, healing as quickly as possible, so that she would be ready at a moment’s notice to go do what must be done to save her sister. She might not be able to fight, but she could gather information and talk to every person she could. The bandits must be somewhere. It was only a matter of time and energy to ferret them out.

  Sarah bowed her head, kissing her cross. She had a plan, and she would see this through.

  Reynald’s face came to mind, and pain coursed through her heart. As much as she had learned to accept her sister’s behavior, it was still a blow to her that Reynald had been so quick to fall into temptation. Yes, he had refused Rachel’s drunken advances of a few weeks ago, if his story was to be believed. Apparently he had not been as strong after Sarah’s injury – and he fully accepted the responsibility for that.

  She looked at her hands. Perhaps it was unfair of her to have expected him to resist. Despite his claims to the contrary, she still found his marriage proposal to be a bit hasty, more of a knee-jerk reaction to the high emotions than anything else. With her then near death, perhaps it was not so surprising after all that he had accepted Rachel’s generous offers of comfort. She was younger,
more curvaceous, and more lively. He might have counted himself lucky to escape a poor match.

  Tears rolled down her face, and she did not move to wipe them away. Today was the day for forgiveness. She had forgiven her sister for her deceptions and affairs. These were a part of Rachel’s nature and she had accepted that. It was time for her to forgive Reynald for …

  For what? For being fickle? For preferring her sister over her? For doing the right thing and agreeing to marriage with a woman he had slept with?

  Sarah shook her head, the stream of tears moving in a slow, steady flow.

  She had to forgive him for breaking her heart.

  Sarah took a deep breath and thought about the situation for a long while. He could not be expected to stay in a relationship that he simply did not want. It would never work. She could not desire that of him. If he did not want to be with her, then he had done what was right. He had, as far as she could tell, been as discreet as could be expected. She could ask no more of him.

  She held her cross in her fingers for a long time, and finally she brought it gently to her lips. Yes, she forgave him. Her life would go on. Finding her sister was now the priority and the only thing she would allow to occupy her mind.

  She slowly stood and turned to head out of the chapel.

  Reynald stood within the shadows by the entryway, his face somber and quiet. He took a step to move into the light, and he held her gaze with quiet strength. His eyes took in her tears and weary expression in one long sweep.

  “Whatever can be done, I will do it to retrieve your sister safely,” he vowed to her, his voice hoarse. “You have my word.”

  “Thank you,” she responded. She was satisfied that her voice was even when she spoke.

  He stepped forward to move by her side; he put out an arm for her to lean on.

  Sarah hesitated for a moment, but relented and took a hold of it, allowing him to escort her back to her room.

  Chapter 24

  Sarah dressed herself with determination the next morning, putting on her riding clothing despite the aches and pains that tweaked at her joints. If she was going to heal up and be a help to her sister, she needed to make every day count. She strapped on her sword and dagger, acknowledging to herself that they were more for show than use at the moment.