“I could find him.” Kade felt obliged to announce. He knew he could find the man if he put his mind to it. But he had no desire to help his father. His father ruled by fear and rage. Men didn’t want to please him, not even his sons.
His father laughed, the shrill sound echoing through the Great Hall.
It grated Kade’s nerves. He remembered how his father laughed at him when he fell from a horse when he was five, remembered how he laughed when the first arrow he shot flew over the target, remembered how he laughed when he cut himself sparring with another boy. The horrid sound of his father’s vile laugh rang in his ears, echoing through his memories.
Suddenly, his father’s laughter stopped. “You think you can find him? Then do it. Stop wasting my time.”
Kade’s lip curled. He had no intention of doing his father’s bidding. Ever again. Kade walked up to his father and stood beside him for a moment, staring into the embers of the hearth. “Did you kill Mother?”
Silence stretched. Kade knew his father was withholding the information on purpose. Kade wanted to know and his father wouldn’t tell him. It gave his father power. Kade regretted asking him. He turned away.
“She fell,” his father said coldly.
Kade paused for a moment, as if waiting for his father to add more to his statement.
“Clumsy girl,” his father finally snarled with a chuckle.
Prickles danced across the nape of Kade’s neck. Clumsy girl. His mother had “fallen” many times as he grew up. Every bruise, every cut, every broken bone was attributed to a fall or an accident. He felt a terrible guilt well up inside him. He was wise enough now to know that none of his mother’s wounds had come from any accident. He should have stayed. He should have protected her. “What did you do to her?”
“Me?” his father cackled with joy. “She fell.”
Sickened, it was all Kade could do not to run from his father. He whirled away from the old man and strolled out into the corridor, then turned the corner to head for the doors. All he wanted to do was be away from this place, from his father. He was surprised to find Ralf leaning against the wall, with his head down as if inspecting his boots.
“I didn’t know you were here,” Ralf said quietly.
“No,” Kade agreed. No one had known except a few servants. He did not sleep in the castle, nor did he make himself known to anyone else. He wanted nothing to do with his old home. He had only returned to pay respects to his mother.
Ralf lifted his gaze and there was pain and apology in his brown eyes. “I’m sorry, Kade. Truly. I didn’t know where you were to send word about mother.”
Kade shrugged, but his lips thinned. “Word reached me. What happened to her?”
Ralf looked away again. “They had a terrible argument. About this de Rolleston.” He shook his head. “Mother lost.”
Kade clenched his teeth. He should have been here to protect his mother. And his brother. “Things haven’t changed.”
“Father hasn’t changed.”
“Was her death quick?” Kade asked, imagining his sweet, loving mother’s kind face twisted in pain.
Ralf hesitated. “No. It took a week for her to pass.”
Kade closed his eyes to fight back the anguish and regret.
“I did everything I could for her, Kade. Everything. It was almost like every bone in her body was broken. She would cry out and there was nothing I could do to help her.”
His brother’s words mirrored Kade’s sentiments exactly. There had been nothing he could have done differently to protect her. She would not listen to reason when he had told her to leave. She said she loved his father. She vowed she would never abandon no matter what. And Kade knew he couldn’t stay. He looked up at Ralf. “And you? Is it better for you?”
Ralf shrugged slightly. “I try to stay away from him as much as I can. And he is getting older.”
They stood in awkward silence for a long moment, each not knowing what to say to the other. Kade knew there were a thousand things he wanted to say to his older brother. He was sorry he didn’t ask him to come away with him. But he hadn’t been sure how he was going to survive by himself, let alone if he had Ralf to take care of. And somewhere inside of him, he had hoped that Ralf would be able to protect their mother.
He had been wrong. So very wrong.
Chapter Three
Lia reached the village early the next morning. The sun was just rising over the horizon, bathing the lands in an early golden glow. The Templar knight’s war horse she rode trudged through the muddy road, kicking up large clumps of slick earth from the recent rains. She had always been a good rider and had few problems controlling the war horse.
The village was slowly coming to life, peasants emerging from shops to open doors, tossing used water into the streets.
Lia dismounted before the only inn in the village. She entered the main room. It was dark. A dying fire in the hearth cast little illumination over the room. Two tables lined the wall near the hearth. She paused as she saw two young men, Bors and Elias, arguing over something near one of the tables. Bors was large, a foot taller than Elias. His dark, greasy hair hung to his shoulders in an uneven line. Elias shoved Bors, but it didn’t move him. Elias was the smaller of the two and the instigator, telling Bors what to do. His black hair was knotted and unkempt. They glanced up at Lia when she entered. A sly grin split Bors’s lips, making the cut on his cheek ooze.
Lia could have helped him with a salve to place over the cut, but she didn’t like the two men. Every time she came into town, they looked at her with lewd gazes that made her uncomfortable.
Her gaze quickly moved by them to see a shadowed man sitting in the corner, a customer, she surmised.
On an adjacent wall, the wall to her left, a man was bent stirring something in a pot over a second hearth. Joy bubbled inside of her. Ned was one of the few friends she had in the village. She and Maeve had once eased his daughter’s stomach pain and for that he was grateful and treated them kindly. She quickly moved up to Ned. “Good day, Ned,” she greeted.
Ned stood, wiping his hands on his apron. A genuine grin touched his lips as seeing her. “Good day, Lia!” He was as tall as she was with a round stomach.
“Have you seen Bailiff Samuelson?” she wondered.
“No, I’m sorry. I haven’t seen him today. He hasn’t come in yet.” Ned cast a disapproving glare at the pair of men watching them before he leaned in close to whisper, “You’d best leave before there is trouble. They’re both in rare moods today, but they just paid for their meals, so I can’t make them leave.”
Lia glanced at Bors and Elias and nodded. “Thank you, Ned.” She headed for the door.
Elias raced around her, stepping before the door to block her path. “Come, now, Lia. That’s rude. Ya didn’t even say hello to us!” His breath stunk like rotted fish.
“We saw ya come into town with that war horse,” Bors said from behind her. “Where’d ya get it?”
Lia lifted her chin, but before she could answer, Bors continued. “Do you like how it feels between yer legs?” Both men chuckled and Bors moved to Elias’s side, nudging him with his elbow.
“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” The voice came from the darkness of the corner table.
Lia turned. She was surprised to see the customer slowly rising from a chair.
“When I see one, I’ll speak better,” Elias answered with a sideways grin.
“Then you are blind as well as daft,” the man said. That erased Elias’s humor.
As the man behind the voice came into the light of the hearth, Lia saw he wore a sword strapped to his waist. His brown jupon and leggings had no holes. He was a nobleman, she was certain.
Elias and Bors must have come to the same conclusion because their demeanor suddenly changed. Their heads bowed slightly, and they nodded, backing toward the door. “Apologies, m’lord,” Elias mumbled.
“Not to me. To her.”
Elias grimaced. “Apologies, Lia.�
�
Lia nodded, knowing how much effort and embarrassment the apology caused Elias.
Bors quickly opened the door and the two almost tripped over each other as they ran from the inn.
Lia couldn’t take her gaze from the lord. His dark, shoulder-length hair fell forward. His jaw was square and rugged, his face clean-shaven. His nose was straight and chiseled. His deep blue eyes bore into her. He looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t place him.
“They shouldn’t treat you like that.”
“They always do,” Ned exclaimed. “It’s disgraceful!”
Lia shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me.”
The man pulled a chair out and indicated she sit in it. “Ale,” he ordered Ned.
Lia had no coin to spend on ale. She took the offered seat, but shook her head. “No, Ned. I don’t need ale.”
The man laughed as he took a seat in the chair opposite her. “I do.”
Ned nodded and hurried to the hearth.
“Is that your war horse those two were interested in?” the man wondered.
Lia shook her head. “No.”
The man nodded. “You’d best be cautious someone doesn’t steal him. Where did you find him?”
Lia scowled slightly. “I didn’t say I found him.”
He shrugged. “My apologies.”
Lia squinted her eyes, trying to fathom why he looked so familiar. “Do I know you?”
“I am Kade de Claremont.”
Her eyes widened slightly. Of course! His manner was commanding and confident, his back straight with pride. A flash of memory came to her about Kade de Claremont. It had been said that he had left the castle suddenly, under suspicious circumstances years ago. And then as she looked closer at him, she recognized his eyes. He had the same eyes as his mother, lady de Claremont. “I’m sorry about your mother.”
Kade nodded, and looked away toward Ned.
“She loved you very much.”
A scowl appeared on his brow and he turned those deep blue eyes back to her. “Why would you say such a thing?”
Startled by his confusion, Lia pulled back slightly. “It was apparent when she spoke of you.”
“You knew her?”
Lia nodded. “Maeve and I ministered to her many times.” Kade looked away, but not before Lia saw agony in his eyes. “I’m sorry if this causes you pain. I shouldn’t speak of her.”
“No,” Kade insisted. “I’m sorry. At least you were there for her.”
There was something in the way he said the words, something bitter. Lia thought it better she said nothing more, but there was one more thing she had to tell him. “I’m glad you are here. Your mother had a message for you. I was to give it to you if I ever saw you.”
Kade’s mouth dropped slightly open. “For me?”
Lia nodded. “I didn’t think I would ever meet you or even see you. I’m glad I’m able to tell you. She said she loves you.” His lips pursed, and Lia continued. “And forgives you.”
Kade swallowed and lowered his head.
“She said…” Lia scowled, looking away from Kade, trying to remember. The last part of the message really made no sense to her, but lady de Claremont made her repeat the phrase three times. “Don’t let them find him. They can’t get it.” Lia nodded. “Yes, that’s what she said.” She looked at Kade. “Don’t let them find him. They can’t get it.”
Kade’s head snapped up and locked gazes with Lia. “Find whom?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know. It took all her effort to tell me that.”
Ned placed the ale on the table and Kade handed him coin. He appeared lost in thought and Lia stood to leave. “Thank you for your help with Bors and Elias. They mean no harm, but can be crude.”
Kade stood immediately. “You are leaving?”
Sympathy washed over her. “I have to find the bailiff.” She glanced outside, then backed to Kade.
Kade followed her gaze, then looked back to her. “Because of the war horse?”
Lia considered his question. This was lord de Claremont. The bailiff worked for him. Surely, she would be able to tell him. “The war horse belongs to a knight. He died sometime during the storm last night. I found him.”
“Show me where.”
Kade stared down at the dead knight. The red cross on his white tunic proclaimed him a Templar knight. This could be trouble. Kade knew King Philippe was pursuing and arresting all the Templar knights. He knew a dead Templar was nothing to the king. But what of his father? Was this the knight his father was searching for?
The knight’s old, weathered face was peaceful, his eyes closed. He was just an old man. Kade’s gaze scanned him. A slash mark and red liquid marred the white tunic near his abdomen. Kade was pretty certain this had been the fatal blow. The knight lay in a puddle of blood, the liquid having dripped down his side to pool on the ground. Kade remembered Ralf telling their father that there had been a fight. Could this really be the knight his father was searching for?
And then he remembered his mother’s message from the girl, Lia. ‘Don’t let them find him. They can’t get it.’ He stared at the old man. Was this the man that had caused his mother’s death? Was this the man Mother and Father had argued over? What had Ralf said his name was? De Rolleston. Kade’s fists clenched as anger rolled through him. What was so important about this old knight to cause his mother to stand up to his father? “Did he say anything to you?” he growled.
After a moment of hesitation, Lia answered, “No. He was dead when I found him.”
Frustrated, Kade bent and ran his hands over the knight’s body, waving a few flies away that had started to congregate around the corpse. Perhaps the knight had something that was important, the ‘it’ of his mother’s message. He searched again, slowly. He tucked his hands into the knight’s belt, into his empty scabbard. He removed one of his boots and looked inside.
“What are you looking for?” Lia wondered.
Kade didn’t answer. He had no idea what he was searching for. Maybe there was nothing here. He removed the other boot and looked inside. Kade lifted the knight’s tunic and then the knight’s chainmail. Blood lined the old man’s stomach. The gaping wound had stopped flowing. There was nothing hidden there. He sat back on his heels. “You found him like this?”
“Yes.”
“Was anyone else around? Another knight?” He swiveled around to look at her. “Did you see anyone else?”
She shook her head, her red locks swaying over her shoulders in thick waves.
“Did you try to help him?”
“He was already dead when I found him.”
Kade looked back at the knight and stood. There was nothing on him that might illicit the message from his mother. Whatever reason his father was searching for him so badly, died with the knight.
Kade turned to Lia. The sun shone down through the leaves of the tree, pooling her in a glorious glow of sunlight. His breath caught. Her red hair all but glowed like fire as the sun touched it. Her nose was pert, her lips slightly parted. His gaze was caught by her dress and the nicely rounded portion of her breasts. For a quick moment, his gaze swept her chest and the way the fabric pulled over it. The torso of her dark cotton dress was splattered with a small freckling of black dots. It took a moment for Kade to realize he had seen that type of spatter before, numerous times. From dying knights. Those small dots of blood came from a mouth expulsion, coughing or sneezing of a mortally wounded knight.
Could the spattering have come from Sir de Rolleston? Had he been alive when she found him? What could the old knight have told her to make her lie to him?
Chapter Four
Lia was grateful Father Stephen had given the knight a proper burial at the chapel. As a Templar knight, he deserved one.
She bent over the lavender growing in a field beside their cruck. She picked a few of the finest blooming stalks and paused to sniff one, loving the sweet scent. She still could not get her mind off Kade de Claremont. It was almost as though
he had appeared out of nowhere. Tall and strong and so handsome. She remembered the way he looked at her with such intensity. Yes, he was stunning to behold, like a carved statue, but he was a noble man. He could marry anyone he wanted. He would never want her.
She shook herself from her musings. What was she thinking? Marriage? No one would marry her. Marriage was not in her future. She was resigned to a life alone, like Maeve. Still, she was grateful she had found Kade to give him lady de Claremont’s message. He needed to hear it, she could tell. Hopefully, it had given him peace.
She lifted the lavender to her nose and inhaled deeply. Inside her dress, the edge of the parchment rubbed against the skin on her chest. The image of Kade searching the old Templar knight came to her mind. He had removed the dead man’s shoes, searched his scabbard. He clearly had been looking for something.
Could it be the parchment the knight had given her? She had kept the parchment a secret, as the old knight had advised. She kept the parchment close to her, beneath her chemise so Maeve would not find it, even accidentally.
Last night, in the darkness, when she was laying on her cot waiting for sleep, she had taken it out and looked at it, angling it into a shaft of moonlight that shown in through one of the planks of wood on the roof. She could no more make out what was written on it then than she could the second time she looked at it this morning when Maeve was relieving herself. She didn’t like to keep secrets from Maeve and the parchment was no exception. But she was not going to put Maeve in any danger.
She dropped to her bottom in the middle of the lavender, a poof of their scent engulfing her. She glanced around, making sure no one was watching. It seemed silly. She knew no one was watching, but the knight’s warning was still fresh in her mind. She reached into her chemise and pulled the parchment out. It was all black squiggly lines to her; she couldn’t read it. Maeve would be able to read it. Tempting as the thought was, she couldn’t ask her. The knight had warned her not to show it to anyone.
The parchment seemed harmless enough. And she had this burning desire to know what was written on it.
Super Summer Set of Historical Shorts Page 54
